


You Are The Darkness That Clouds My Heart

by stannigram



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Dark!Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Evil Derek, First Time, Frottage, M/M, consensual foreplay, consent is always good, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stannigram/pseuds/stannigram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a wet dream about everyone's favorite uncle. It ends badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are The Darkness That Clouds My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this story is canon divergent? :)

Peter grinds down slowly against Stiles’ hips. Creating a slow rhythm as he ghosts his way up Stiles body. Running his nose up Stiles neck to stop and nuzzle in the hollow of Stiles’ neck. Carefully shredding Stiles’ shirt with sharp claws. Slipping his hand over the exposed skin, and kissing his way to the shoulder and back to Stiles neck. Leaving a trail of saliva cooling on the boy’s skin in the chilly air, before nibbling at Stiles pulse point. Stiles moans as he feels the pleasure filled press of fangs against his skin

Stiles tilts his head so he feels Peter’s stubble grazing against his jaw. Delicious sensations pulse through his virginal body. His loins stirring as Peter’s lip ghosts against the skin of his jaw. He puffs a hot breath across the older man’s ear.

“Your sure the Pack’s okay with this?” Stiles moans. Clutching at Peter’s shirt, and arching his body up into the older man’s as Peter licks at his nipple.  “Peter.” Stiles says, sadly pushing Peter away.

Peter learns forward. Brushing their noses together tenderly as he rests his head on Stiles’ forehead, catching his breath. “Yes,” Peter murmurs against Stiles lips. His own lips caressing the boy’s flushed superior labial.  Pressing a gentle kiss there before moving his lips upwards to press a trail of kisses up Stiles’ noes. Pulling a way Peter says, “ _They are a hundred percent over it_ ,” looking Stiles in the eye the whole time—the _it_ Peter is referring to is the whole older-wolf-mating-with-an-underage-human-pack-member thing.

“ _They said that.”_ Stiles smiles minutely—warmed by the fact of his packs acceptance—as he pulls Peter’s head toward him. Crashing their lips together in a sensual kiss. Tongues’ slip in and out of each other’s mouths. Circling each other in time with Peter’s hand movements on the boy’s chest. Teeth scraping harshly against the boy’s tongue when Peter pinches Stiles’ nipple through his shirt. Stiles bucks hard into Peters hips, and Peter pulls away, tongue lingering to taste the inside of Stiles’ mouth a little longer. He places a single kiss to Stiles’ chin, bringing his face upward so he can look into Stiles’ eyes as he speaks sardonically. “ _Not in so many words, but they will get over it._ ”

Stiles watches mesmerized by the movement of Peter’s lips. He drags his thumb down Peter’s cheek: relishing in the feel of Peter skin, catching Peter’s kiss swollen lip, dragging it down, imagining it pressing feverishly to his warm skin. Peter catches his hand and presses kisses to the tips of Stile’s fingers. Moving the hand to cup his cheek. He stares at Stiles, speaking lightly, “it is none of their business who we love, and it is about time you learn to stop caring what they think.”

Peter moves swiftly down Stiles’ body: lip trailing down the boy’s neck, nose ghosting over Stiles’ clothed erection, legs straddling the boy as he pushed him self up. Stiles watches the muscles in Peter’ arms ripple as Peter drags his shirt erotically up his body. Exposing his ripped torso to Stiles to ogle. Body moving forward on its own accord, Stiles comes face-to-face with Peter’s erection. He licks up Peter’s happy trail: kissing back down to nibble on the skin above the line of the jeans. Seizing the jean’s button with his teeth, and unclasping it with his mouth so he can kiss the flesh hidden inside them.

Stiles hears the rustle of a shirt hitting the ground. He runs his hands up Peter’s slides, scrapping his nails along Peter’s obliques, messaging the muscles on his chest as he mouths at Peter’s cloth covered dick. Peter’s whimpers are sinful, and they fuel the fire growing in Stiles' groins.

Peter grabs tuffs of Stiles hair and tugs, pulling Stiles head back so he can see into his eyes. But, what he sees frightens him. There is only confusion and fear in the boy's eyes; not the lust and desire Peter hopes there to be. Peter was afraid Stiles is changing his mind. That the boy doesn’t want this anymore—doesn’t want him anymore.

 _“Peter, are those claws around your neck?”_ Stiles asks as his eyebrows knit together in grotesque horror.

Stiles watches Peter’s eyes widen in puzzlement as he runs his hand up to his neck. Frowning when his hand meets the cool stone feel of claws pressing against his skin.

A figure steps out the shadows of Stiles’ room. Stepping closer until he is standing directly behind Peter, and enclosing his werewolfy fist around Peter’s neck. When the light shines Stiles sees the crazy look in Derek’s eyes.

Derek’s tightens his grips on his uncle as he whispers madly, “lets do him, Stiles.” Derek mutters manically, digging his claws deep into Peter’s neck, _“lets do him together.”_

Stiles watches as Derek slits Peter throat, hears the sound of a gun go off, feels the metal in his hands. Watches as the light drains from his Peter’s eyes, as the blood pools in halo around his head soaking into the batman sheets of Stiles’ bed. Watches as Peter dies, again.

\-- 

Stiles wakes, gasping, kicking the blankets off the bed in a flurry. He is reaching for his phone before he can even think about. His fingers typing the number and pressing call on their own accord. Hands placing a phone to his ear as the dial tone rings. He is shaking as he stares absently-mindedly at the wall.

“Stiles?” A groggy voice calls out concerned through the receiver.

“How fast can you get here?”

“Ten minutes.” Comes a hasty reply and the beep signifying the call is over.

Stiles sits waiting—numb to the world around him—when someone raises the window and a man is crawling through. Stiles looks at him—feels the tears welling in his eyes—and opens his arms towards the man. And Peter is there, encasing him in his strong arms. Shushing him as he places kisses the boy’s cheeks. And Peter is holding him as he sobs and shakes. Peter’s hands run through Stiles’ hair, and lulls Stiles to sleep.

As he titters on the edge of sleep, Stiles is aware of the darkness radiating off of Peter. Of it penetrating his skin, and worming it’s way through his lungs to cloud around his heart. He understands he should resist it. Tell Peter to go way, but instead he basks in the protection it brings him. How it stops the other bad things from getting to his heart. Protecting him from the things that leave irreparable scars. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my interpretation of the Allison/Isaac promo scene for season 3b. Just changed things to have a more Peter/Stiles feel, ya feel? All the quotes in italics are taken directly from the promo or a slight deviation of what is said. :)


End file.
